


Greed

by honorablementioned



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 19:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19026775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorablementioned/pseuds/honorablementioned
Summary: Will had stared at the cheque for a long time after that visit. The business card accompanied it, both of the papers in his hands. He thought back to the lingering gaze and the close proximity and -Oh.If a man could afford to give him that much of a tip, what else could he afford to give Will?





	Greed

**Author's Note:**

> very short and unbeta’d AU because I need more sugar daddy Hannibal but am bad at writing long things.

In the quiet of the evening, Will feels as though nothing can touch them.

The beginnings of this... _arrangement_ , if one could call it that, had given him more anxiety than he could handle. He wasn’t the type of person to do this. He still doesn’t think he is; a moocher, a rent boy, a sugar baby. Will prides himself on being independent, ever since he emancipated himself from his father when he was eighteen and had moved miles and miles away to Virginia from Louisiana. He had enough skill working on the docks down south to pick up working on cars, finding his way to earn a steady living as a mechanic near the Maryland state line. 

Will made enough for him to rent out a little studio apartment. It didn’t pay enough, however, for bigger and better things like the police academy or even classes at the community college. 

He still maintains, too, that he didn’t go looking for this _arrangement_ (he shivers at the word). It happened upon him when a Bentley, sleek and classic in its design, had rolled into the little mechanics’ shop on a Tuesday afternoon. Will had been tinkering at a boat motor, waiting for the next walk-in customer, when Dr. Hannibal Lecter stepped out of the old fashioned vehicle and introduced himself.

“I believe I may have an oil leak somewhere,” the doctor had said. Will noticed the way the man’s eyed lingered. He assumed it was because of his grease stained exterior and promptly ignored the anger that rose up in him. 

“Let me just grab a flashlight,” Will responded. He had wheeled himself under the car and took a look. When he pushed himself back out, he came face to face with the doctor.

With an expensive car like that, Will once again assumed the man was paranoid about who touched the car. And again, he pushed down the irritation and made his way over to his supply rack.

“Your oil pan needs replacing,” he said. When he told the doctor the price, the man seemed agreeable enough. It was fixed and ready to go in a matter of thirty minutes. 

When the time for payment came, the doctor slid Will the cheque for the bill - along with another cheque, with the name blank, and a business card.

“What-“ Will stared at the cheque in his hand. This was more than a tip...this was more than his regular paycheck.

The doctor had simply smiled. “It’s only fair,” he said. 

“But Doctor Lecter-“ Will tried, but the doctor only shook his head.

“Indulge me,” he said. “You need only to fill in your name.”

Will had stared at the cheque for a long time after that visit. The business card accompanied it, both of the papers in his hands. He thought back to the lingering gaze and the close proximity and -

Oh.

If a man could afford to give him that much of a tip, what else could he afford to give Will?

At nearly nineteen, Will wanted more in life than just a simple mechanic job. He wanted to make something of himself, to help people - Dr. Lecter could be a means to an end.

It took one phone call (that he had to talk himself into making at least thirty times) to find himself in his current position: straddling the lap of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, in nothing but a short, silk robe and a shy smile on his face.

In the quiet of the evening, Will feels as though nothing can touch them. 

“Darling boy,” Hannibal whispers. Will feels a chill run down his spine. 

“Yes, sir?” He says, playing his part. His hands smooth down the vest that the doctor wears, idly playing with the buttons. 

“Indulge me?” He asks. Will remembers those words, first said when he had handed Will his first (of many) cheques. It makes the boy smile broadly and he moves back slightly in the doctor’s lap.

“What would Daddy like tonight?” Will asks, soft and sweet. Hannibal’s grip on his waist, scrunching up his robe.

“I’m feeling a bit hungry,” Hannibal says. His voice becomes a little raspier, more accented. His hands push up Will’s robe enough to where he can reach back. 

Will inhales sharply when he feels fingers run along the crease of his ass. Two fingers find his hole, pressing against the wrinkled skin just enough to make Will want to push back, to make him clench at the promise.

“Daddy-“ Will gasps. He feels a dry tip press into him and he tries to sink back further into it. Hannibal chuckles at his eagerness.

“Daddy said he was hungry,” Hannibal murmurs. Will shivers again and nods, feeling empty as the doctor pulls back and moves to rearrange them. 

He indulges Hannibal as he splays himself on the couch, open and wanting for the mouth that begs to devour him. But he also indulges himself - for as much as he hates to admit his reliance on the older man (the considerably older man), he finds it rude to turn down such generosity.


End file.
